


Goodnight, My Dear

by demonipsimus



Category: Bayonetta (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 12:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10786374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonipsimus/pseuds/demonipsimus
Summary: A short little drabble, just because I adore Jeannetta.





	Goodnight, My Dear

The witch eyed her own naked reflection with confidence before sighing and attacking her wet hair with the comb. I really, really ought to get this restyled, she thought to herself, tugging at the black locks. Hordes of murderous angels I can handle, but this mess…? The sound of Frank Sinatra echoed away over the radio in the background; it was her favourite song, the one her mother used to sing to her. She hummed along to the tune, as it was the only thing keeping her sane at present. She aimed to look effortlessly stylish at all times, but using one’s hair as a medium for summoning demons did have a nasty habit of causing knots and split ends. Casting the comb aside, she spoke aloud to herself and pressed a hand to her forehead in an exasperated fashion.

‘No, Jeanne’s right, shorter is definitely the way to go.’

The radio suddenly switched tracks, to something a lot more aggressive sounding and modern. One of her housemate’s beloved Nicki Minaj tracks, of course (not that she didn’t also secretly enjoy them). As though the music had signalled the presence of something else, there was a loud knock at the door.

‘Ohh, let me guess,’ she muttered, already knowing who it would be. Ebony hair draped over her in a magical veil, she strode over and opened the door a little.

‘Bayonetta,’ boomed a deep, American-sounding voice.

‘Rodin,’ she replied in a sing-song tone, staring into the dark sunglasses of her visitor. ‘I’m guessing you’ve brought back...’ She opened the door wider to reveal the semi-conscious, giggling mess of a woman who Rodin was holding up by the scruff of her expensive coat.

‘Jeanne.’

Without saying anything else, the mysterious man thrust the lighter-haired lady into Bayonetta’s arms before disappearing off into the shadows. The witch guided her drunk friend into the house slowly, closing the door behind her and swearing under her breath.

‘I hope you put your drinks on Enzo’s tab this time.’

Jeanne tried to wobble over to the nearest chair, but in such high heels this feat was currently too much for her, and she fell back into her friend’s grasp once more.

‘Yeahhh, Cereza...’ the intoxicated witch slurred, ‘Oh my gosh you should have been there! It was so… itwasso… yeah!’

‘And...how much did you have to drink this time?’

‘Hmmm… not a lot, I promise…!’ The sentence was punctuated with a hiccup.  
‘It sure looks like it, dear,’ Bayonetta sighed again, feeling almost sorry for her friend, ‘Come now, you need to get to bed.’

‘Yes, good idea...’ Jeanne teetered over to the stairs precariously with another giggle.

‘It’s no good, I don’t trust you to get up there without passing out… or worse, throwing up on the new carpet.’ 

She went over to her friend and swept her up off the ground, getting a stable hold before carrying her bridal-style up the staircase. Jeanne, seemingly used to this, rest her head against her fellow witch and shut her eyes sleepily.

‘You’re all wet,’ she complained.

‘Yes, well I had just left the shower until someone decided to turn up positively wasted again.’

‘Soooryyy...’

Bayonetta kicked open the bedroom door and approached the lavish four-poster bed, laying the second witch down carefully. She took a long towel from the drawers and wrapped it around her body, before setting to work taking off Jeanne’s shoes and coat. Taking caution not to cause any discomfort, she slowly slid her hands around her friend’s shoulders and unzipped the glamorous, crimson red dress, undressing Jeanne with care and slipping her silk nightgown over her body.

‘You take good -hic- care of me, Cereza...’ She smiled sweetly, reaching up to the sober lady.

‘The thing is, dear,’ came the reply, ‘you do take an awful lot of looking after, don’t you?’ A soft chuckle followed.

Bayonetta leaned closer and brushed a strand of platinum-blonde hair out of her friend’s eyes, feeling a pair of arms come up around her in a lazy hug. She kissed Jeanne’s lips gently, followed by her forehead, and sauntered back over to the doorway, pausing with her finger on the lightswitch.

‘Goodnight, Jeanne.’


End file.
